Free Stone Cold by Joel Goldman

something for the pain if you can’t take it.”
    He glared at her. “Give me somethin’ for the pain? Like I can’t handle it? You callin’ me a pussy? Bitch, you is fucked! I gonna look you up, you can count on that shit happenin’ for real. Just sew me up so I can get the fuck outta here.”
    His eyes, dark, dead, and certain, melted her bravado. She clenched her jaw to keep from shaking and pointed at the cops.
    “I wouldn’t be in such a hurry if I were you.”
    “They ain’t got nuthin’ on me. I be home ’fore you, that’s for damn sure. And when you get home, I be waitin’ and then we gonna find out who can take what.”
    She looked at the cops, who shook their heads in unison, their reassurance no match for her anxiety and no antidote for the shame she felt for what she’d done. She hated thinking she was better than that only to find that she wasn’t.
    She cleaned and stitched Dwayne’s laceration without looking at him. Finished, she nodded at the cops and walked out of the room, her heart racing, and banged into Alex, who was coming her way, head down and texting.
    “What the—,” Alex began, looking up and seeing Bonnie. “Well, that’s one way to get ahold of you. You can ignore my text.”
    Trembling, Bonnie forced a smile.
    “You okay?” Alex asked.
    Bonnie dodged the question, embarrassed to tell Alex what she’d done, taking advantage of Alex’s disheveled appearance—hair matted, eyes puffy and red—to change the subject.
    “You look hungover. What’s going on?”
    Alex let out a long breath, her eyes filling, voice breaking, hands fluttering. “I stopped by the Hendersons’ to check on them. They were all dead. Slaughtered. Mary was strangled and probably raped, the kids beaten to death. Jameer had been shot between the eyes, probably after he was forced to watch his wife and kids die.”
    Bonnie covered her heart with both hands. “Oh, my God!” She reached for Alex, pulling her close. “Oh, my God! Oh, my God!”
    Alex clung to her, both of them letting loose, their tears mixing together. They stood like that for a moment until their hearts settled, wiping each other’s cheeks and then leaning inward, their foreheads touching.
    “I’m sorry you had to find them. Are you okay?” Bonnie asked.
    “It was the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen. I’ll never forget it. Never.”
    “I can only imagine. I’m glad you came to see me.”
    Alex stepped back, shaking her head. “Sorry. That’s not why I’m here. I got so caught up in what happened that I forgot you were working today. But I really needed that hug.”
    “Then what are you doing here?”
    “Looking for Dwayne Reed. Detective Rossi likes him for the murders and went after him. Dwayne ran, tried to jump a fence but didn’t make it, and tore his leg on the chain-link. Paramedics brought him here.”
    Bonnie nodded, swallowing hard. “Did he do it? Did he kill those people?”
    “Rossi thinks so. For now, they’re charging him with drug possession. That’s enough to hold him while they see if they can make the murder case against him. Can you find out which room he’s in?”
    “This one,” Bonnie said, pointing over her shoulder. “I just sewed him up.”
    Alex’s breath caught in her throat. “You?”
    “I know,” Bonnie said, her confession tumbling out rapid-fire. “When I saw his name on the chart, I couldn’t believe it. All I could think of was how he’d frightened you and if he’d hurt the Hendersons he might hurt you. Obviously, I didn’t know what had happened, but I had this awful fantasy for a second where I killed him.”
    “Get out! You fantasized that you killed Dwayne?”
    Bonnie shrugged her shoulders, her face coloring. “Yeah, me. Florence Nightingale, of all people. In the fantasy I injected him with something to give him a heart attack. I was mad at myself for even thinking about doing that. But then he threatened to rape me and I was madder about that.”
    Alex